Empire
by Quynn
Summary: "I'm never going to let you go, Granger. Ever." Hermione Granger is stranded smack in the middle of a tug-of-hearts. A marriage sizzles. A deed is done. Passion meets love. And two empires collide. To the rhythm of Shakira's beautiful song. Draco/Hermione. Complete!
1. To be

**Empire**

~ Chapter 01 – To Be… ~

The conversation from the morning swirled around Hermione's head as she stepped into her office.

"_Do you have to go to work today Hermione? Come on! Take a break at least the day before your wedding!"_

_Hermione sighed. "I can't Ron. You know that Kingsley has given me a difficult case this week. I'll be off half day, I promise."_

_Ron scowled. "Sometimes, I think you love your work better than me. Otherwise you wouldn't make me stay here alone, entertaining _your_ parents!"_

"_Don't do this to me: choose between you and work. Please. I'll be back soon. I _have_ to do this. I saved this man from execution; I just need to finish off the process!"_

"_So you choose the Death Eater over me. Fine. Go to work. I'm going to spend the rest of the day with my teammates. Your parents can entertain themselves."_

"_Ron…"_

_But, Ron had already put on his coat. He pecked her cheek and left, without so much as a backwards glance._

Taking her customary seat in the black leather chair behind her desk, she determined to banish the morning's exchange from her head. Ron was just in one of his moods. Pre-wedding jitters. He would be alright. Yet, she couldn't but help feel a bit resentful.

Her secretary, Suri, knowing Hermione's habits, had gathered up all the files relating to her case and stacked it up on the desk. The pile of paperwork was overflowing. Hermione glanced wearily at the load, but, within five minutes had hung up her coat and was two feet deep in her work. A particularly difficult case of a former death eater, one of her own classmates, Theodore Nott, had been forwarded for her to undertake, and the amount of work under this man's name was endless. She had hoped for something slightly easier at least during her big week… but, oh well. Life was not that easy. She was proud of herself though, she knew the amount of effort it had taken on her part to save Nott.

She had just logged onto the ministry's database to clear up Nott's history – anything and everything to prove him innocent – when there was a knock on the door. She barely glanced up as she said "Come in".

The door opened with a click, and footsteps approached her desk. "Still deep in work, I see," a familiar voice drawled, at the sound of which Hermione's head shot up. "I would have at least thought you would take the day before your _wedding_ off."

"That's exactly what Ron said." Hermione rubbed her eyes, then turned back to her work. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"I've been asked to finish up Nott's case for you," Draco said, settling himself opposite her.

Hermione's head shot up again, this time with a vengeance. "_What_? What's wrong with the way I handled this case? I saved his _life_ for Merlin's sake! I do not need your overlarge nose butting into my business; I am perfectly capable of finishing it up alone!"

He smirked. "Relax. Kingsley asked me to save you the trouble of the final paperwork. Besides, I'm just here to finish up the _case_ for you, not your _business._ With Weasley at your side, I have no desire to 'butt into your business' anyway, thank you."

She glared at him. "Did you come here just to piss me off or did you have some actual work in mind?"

"Believe it or not, I did. Annoying you is just for bonus." He took out a folder from inside his cloak and tossed it onto the desk. "Kingsley passed this along to me. It's your case file. All the information needed for me to close the case."

Hermione picked the folder and rifled through the pages.

"Job well done Granger." Hermione glanced at him and for once he looked sincere. "You really saved Nott. Not many Defence Aurors could have. Wouldn't even be willing in the first place."

Hermione smiled for the first time that day. "Thank you."

He smirked again in response. "Those papers also have a glowing account of you from Kingsley. Totally kissing your ass. Weaselbee must be so proud."

Her smile vanished at Ron's name. "Actually he didn't really appreciate me working on it." Almost as soon as she said it, she wished she could swallow back her words. She had no idea why she was sharing personal information with _Draco Malfoy _of all people.

"Why not?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Hermione shot him a suspicious look, but relented. "Because Nott was a Death Eater. Because Ron didn't like for me to work the week before the wedding." _Because you are my colleague and he doesn't trust me to be around you or you to be around me, _she silently added in her head.

"That's ridiculous. It is not the past of a person's life that matters, it is the present. Does he know you saved his life?"

Hermione stared at him, or in particular at the words he had just said. _It is not the past of a person's life that matters, it is the present_. It sounded almost… _wise_. And sad. At the very least, it was applicable to a lot of scenarios.

"Well, does he?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Does he realise that you saved an innocent man from execution with only minimum possible penalty?" he enunciated each word carefully, the way some do to a five year old.

"I don't know." Hermione felt the realization sink in. She didn't know if Ron knew of the importance of this case. And this was only the problem at the superficial level. What about everything else?

"Problems at home?"

She looked at him sharply, then shook her head. "No. No, everything's perfect. Absolutely lovely." She slid her chair back and stood up abruptly. "If you're finishing this up for me, I can go right?"

Draco looked taken aback – she wasn't going to hover over him as he went through her precious case? – but nodded.

"Good." Hermione shrugged into her coat, and picked up her bag. She walked to the door, but then looked back at the blonde man. "Thank you Draco. See you tomorrow."

Draco Malfoy watched her disappearing back, an unfathomable expression on his face.

[][][]

Hermione sipped coffee from the steaming mug Molly Weasley had pressed to her hands, mentally ticking off everything in her list. Flowers: check. Dress: check. Parents: back at the hotel. Guests: no RSVP's. Bills: check. Well, at least partially. Leftover things-to-do: not really. Everything was almost done, thanks to both her mother's and future mother-in-law's bustling and her own meticulous planning. Everything was almost done… except that _almost._

She had organized her big day down to the last letter, imagining the relief of steadying her nerves at the final moments. Now she wished that she had something left to do. Anything to keep her mind from wandering down the wrong track.

A welcome distraction came in the form of Mrs. Weasley, a basket of washing at her hips. "Well dear," Molly said, kindly. "And how are you holding up?"

"I'm ok Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said, smiling wanly. "Have you seen Ron?"

Molly picked up some stray napkins which had fallen on the floor. "He said he was going visit one of his friends. Elli something or other. I really don't know dear, he just popped in here for five minutes and then he was off. You needn't worry, I'm sure he's fine. Now, I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got to get these cloths to Harry, he's going to deliver it to the hotel."

Hermione jumped up. "Anything I can help you with?" she asked, trailing after Mrs. Weasley.

Molly patted her cheek fondly. "No, no, you go off and enjoy yourself; I've got everything under control."

Hermione stared forlornly after her, but was distracted hearing a shriek from the yard. Upon investigation, she found a grinning George and a soaking wet and equally furious Ginny. "George Weasley, you stop this right now, or I'm going to hex you!" Ginny yelped again as a water bubble exploded on top of her.

"What's going on?" demanded Hermione, then shrieked as a sphere of water burst over her. "_Guys_! This is not funny!" She pushed her sopping hair out of her eyes and glared at George who was doubled up in laughter. She muttered something under her breath, twitching her wand, and the bucket of water from which he had been forming prank bubbles, upended itself onto his head. A lone hen from the Weasley's chicken coop had wandered in, and George, vision blinded because of the bucket, promptly tripped over it. The hen, squawking indignantly flapped itself on him, pecked the part of his face visible from beneath the bucket – "Youch! 'et tha' 'ing 'oop mee" yelped the muffled voice from the bucket – then waddled off. The girls, giggling hysterically, watched as George sat up and struggled to get the bucket off.

"Urgh, that is disgusting," said George, spitting a feather from his mouth. "Remind me to never eat chicken again for the next forty years." He flung the bucket away from him and stood up. "Hello Hermione. And what can we do today for the blushing bride?"

"Erm, is there something I can do for you?" asked Hermione, performing the three-minute-quick-dry-spell on herself and Ginny.

"Not really, unless you want to deliver this lovely, automatic refill bucket back to the shop," George said solemnly, pointing to the dripping bucket. "Be warned though, its magic has now been tampered with. It may give the blushing bride another unnecessary deluxe chicken bath."

"Yeah, yeah, we get it George. You steal products from your own shop," Ginny snapped, disgruntled. "Now, go away. Hermione and I have business to discuss." She dragged Hermione to The Burrow's perimeter to apparate.

"What business?" gulped Hermione. Knowing Ginny's obsession with the clothes –

"The dress business, of course," Ginny said, as they both plunged into darkness.

[][][]

"Do you think I should pin up my hair, or let it hang loose?" asked Ginny, looking at her reflection in the brocaded hotel mirror.

"I don't know, Gin." Hermione winced as the assistant who was pinning up a loose edge of her dress, unintentionally pricked her. "Whatever you want."

"You look beautiful ma'am," the assistant said dutifully, standing up.

"Thank you…" – Hermione checked the name tag on the assistant's uniform – "…Loretta."

Ginny swivelled around to face her. "I think I'm just going to wear it loose," she said and stopped as she saw her one-day-away sister-in-law. "Hermione… you look so _beautiful_."

"Thanks Gin," Hermione said, stepping in front of the mirror. She saw a girl with sleek brown hair that fell about her shoulders, her pink lips pursed up worriedly, her brown eyes large and wondering, encased in a cloud of feathers and ruffles and silk. The girl looked beautiful. But the dress seemed… wrong.

She fingered her gown, a small frown creasing her brows. It was beautiful. The silk was smooth and supple under her fingertips. Ron's wedding gift to her. His vision _of_ her and his vision _for_ her.

Unlike every other female in existence, Hermione had had no particular idea for her wedding dress – something which had scared her silly the first few weeks of her engagement. Up until she actually did become engaged, marriage to her was something holy and the dress - the dress was a symbol of a couples love for each other; a metamorphosis of his and her love. This idea of hers was utterly destroyed when she became engaged, because she hadn't been able to picture walking down the aisle, let alone the dress itself.

When Ron had asked her about it, she said she had no preferences. So Ron had undertaken it as a special little side project slash wedding present, to create a wedding dress for her.

The bodice was sewn with shimmering dewdrops – she hadn't particularly cared for them, but Ron had insisted. He said it made her look like a diamond. "A jewelling crystallised diamond Hermione. Stunning. The envy of every man." Those were his precise words. She had resented it at the time – it somehow made her feel like a trophy – but she had let it pass, wanting him to be happy.

There were yards of silk – "Silk is the new _in '_Mione" – and pleats and ruffles and delicate little folds. Then at the very edges were a plethora of feathers. The dress was certainly beautiful. But, Hermione couldn't help but feel slightly sour as his initial idea for the dress had been concocted with Lavender Sian nee Brown, super model extraordinaire and one of Ron's earliest girlfriends. He had assured her that it was well and truly over and that "It's only to get an idea 'Mione, because she knows all the latest fashionable styles." The words '_Because you obviously wouldn't when you can't even get yourself a _wedding_ dress_' hung unspoken, yet hinted at, in the air.

Ron would be absolutely delighted with the look. He wouldn't find anything wrong with it. It was his vision come to life – the trophy of the year. Big bucks, gold and silver. The reigning queen who would trounce everybody underfoot. She looked like a million dollars. Yes, he would adore it.

Yet, unbidden to her mind floated an incident that had happened the first time she saw the dress.

_Hermione stood exasperatedly, staring at the covered casing on top of her desk which swamped over all her meticulous papers. The idiot dressmakers had delivered her wedding dress to her office instead of the hotel. She had argued with the delivery man for a good half hour to no avail: she was stuck with it. How on earth was she to lug it back to the hotel?_

_There door opened with a sharp click. "The folder that – Jesus, Granger, what's this?"_

"_Ever heard of knocking Malfoy?" Hermione snatched the heavy dress off the desk before he could get his hands on it._

_A look of pure delight shot across Draco's face. "Is this your wedding dress? Jesus, I _have_ to see this."_

"_No!" Hermione protested – too late, the covering magically fell away revealing the concoction of silk, feathers, and ruffles in her arms._

_He grabbed the dress from her hands, lifting it up and inspecting its full length. Then he carefully placed it on her desk, his expression blank. "Is this your idea?"_

"_Is what my idea?"_

"_For such a smart person you are so stupid sometimes," he muttered, then looked at her directly. "The idea for the dress, Granger, the idea for the dress."_

"_Yes… well, no, not really." Malfoy looked at her sharply. "I didn't really have any preferences so Ron planned this for me."_

"_Weasley had a 'vision' for you?"_

_Her mouth popped open. "How would you know?"_

"_Seemed like a thing he would do." He didn't elaborate._

_Hermione touched the ruffles ruefully. "He thinks I look like a jewel in this," she said sadly, but then remembered who she was talking to and promptly shut her mouth._

"_I'd say you'd look like something a rich sixty year old hag would wear. Something particularly feathery."_

"_Oh thank you so much, ferret. I feel so honoured. Gee, I wonder why I ever inviting your snivelling ass to _my wedding_ in the first place. I think I had dementia that day."_

_He grinned. "Just my opinion. I didn't really consider you a ruffles and silk kind of person."_

"_What, now _you _have a vision for me? Get in line Draco, too many people do."_

_He smirked, leaning against the wall. "See, now _that_ would be you. Fiery passion combined with a gentle innocence. That would have been the perfect combination for you."_

"_And how would you know?"_

"_Because I know you."_

_Her brown eyes met his silver ones, and suddenly she was plunged back into their seventh year at Hogwarts, the year after the war. The year that was filled with sunshine, hopes, dreams, laughter, friends… and Draco Malfoy. The ridiculous attempts he made to teach her Quidditch, her running after him with a book because he had stolen something of hers, his teasing jabs at her, smacking him playfully each time he did… walks in the rain and the sun… laughing hysterically over a prank… getting locked together in an anti-magic closet… kissing him, touching him, holding him…_

_She felt cool fingers on her cheeks, cupping her face, a gentle word - perhaps her name, and then his lips were on hers, kissing her, and she was kissing him back, her fingers winding themselves into his silver hair, and it was just like before, when everything was free and wild and perfect, when there was no Ron to worry about because he was with – _Ron.

_Her eyes flew open, and she pulled herself away, staring at him wild eyed. "Draco… I… I… we can't… I'm sorry… Ron. Ron is there." _ _Still stuttering Hermione sat down in her chair, a thousand years' worth of despair hanging in her heart. _

_She looked down at her hands, preferring to look anywhere except at the frozen man in front of her. "I'm getting married in two weeks Draco. To Ron. I… I need to get this work done." _

_She didn't say it, but the 'Please go away' hung in the air. "Of course. I'm sorry." Draco, unfreezing himself, felt something odd in his throat. "The file you need."_

_She heard him place it on her desk, and when she looked up again, he was gone._

Gazing at herself numbly in the mirror, Hermione saw a tear etch itself down her cheek. Hastily she rubbed it away before anyone saw, and turned as brightly as she could to Ginny. "Tell you what. Let's do something special tonight Gin, with the girls."

Ginny sparkled. "Perfect. Today is the last night you're going to a single woman, so… a hen party?"

"Excellent," said Hermione mischievously. "I know just the place to go."

[][][]

"Really Hermione?" asked Ginny sceptically, as a woman wearing practically nothing danced on top of a counter. "A bar? Before your _wedding_ day?"

"Why not?" queried Hermione, scanning the row of bottles. "Firewhiskey. _And_ muggle alcohol. _Excellent_."

"Well, because," Ginny struggled to explain. "Because… it's very unlike your usually prim- I mean _responsible_ behaviour."

"I'm just going to toss the prim act for tonight Ginny. Just drink, dance and _grind_," Hermione said, twinkling and giving a suggestive swing to her hips.

Ginny laughed. "Oh, boy, this is going to be fun."

… _A few hours later …_

Draco nursed a bottle of Firewhiskey in his hands, people watching. The usual crowd was there, along with a throng of giddy girls - who weren't regulars - dancing. The women were all clearly begging to get laid and were all clearly very drunk. One girl with blonde hair made her way over to the back, where a lone girl was sitting on top of a counter, holding an empty champagne flute but appearing to be surprisingly sober.

"Come an' dansh 'Ermione," Luna slurred, a merry smile plastered on her face. "It'sh sho fun."

"Maybe in a bit, Luna," Hermione said. "You go and have fun."

"Ok," Luna giggled, pirouetting like a ballerina. "The wrackshpurts are telling me that I am vewy dwunk. And that you are a vewy nice person."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you. You are very nice too. Go on, Luna, go dance. I'll come later."

Draco watched the blonde staggering away. He glanced again at the other woman, then sat up straight. She was wearing a crisp blouse and skirt, her brown hair pulled up in a messy bun. Was it…? – It was. Grinning broadly, he beckoned to the bartender.

"A shot for the lady there."

He watched as the bartender made his way across to her and gave her the glass, pointing at him when she shook her head. She turned her gaze to him, and her eyes widened in shock as she saw him. He raised his glass to her in mock salute and watched her face harden. She grabbed the drink from the bartender and downed it in one go.

Impressed, he raised his eyebrows. In return, she hopped down from the counter and made her way to him. "Never thought I'd see _you_ get drunk," he said as she sat down on the barstool next to him.

"Oh, I'm not drunk yet. Just buzzed." This time, she called the bartender. "Another two shots please."

"_Two_?" Draco asked in disbelief. This was Hermione Granger after all.

"You didn't think I'd get drunk alone did you?" Hermione asked, pushing one glass towards him. "One's for you. Drink up."

"Your generosity knows no bounds I'm sure." But still he drank it.

"Three?"

"What about four?" he said, catching on.

Hermione opened her mouth to say '_Five'_, but then thought the better of it. "Deal."

Draco laughed, and as earlier, they both downed the liquor together.

… _A little later…_

Empty glasses littered the table, when this time Parvati found her. "There'sh you arreee. Commee ooonnn." And Parvati – proving to be surprisingly strong – dragged Hermione to dance.

Draco watched as the girl started to dance rather provocatively with Parvati Patil. She shook her chocolate locks free from its clip, then swung her hips back to back with Parvati. The two girls danced as if they were possessed, swinging their hips and performing rather acrobatic movements that Draco knew the everyday Hermione would repel with horror.

By now, it was not only Draco watching them – between them the duo attracted the attention of every male in the bar. The brunette versus the raven. Ravishing.

He unconsciously stepped towards the little vixen, only to find her gaze directly levelled at him. He couldn't quite believe his eyes, when she crooked a finger at him.

"Having fun?" she asked, grabbing his shirt.

"Maybe," he grinned. "I should get you drunk more ofte-" He lost his train of thought as her fingers slid under his shirt and played across his chest.

"You were saying?" she purred in his hear, nibbling it slightly. "You were saying that we should get out of here?"

"Yes love. Exactly." And he hoisted her into his arms, crushing her lips with his in a burning kiss.

* * *

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	2. Or Not To Be

**A huge thanks my wonderful reviewers for making my day with their reviews. And here's the next chapter, folks. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Empire**

~ Chapter 02 – …Or Not To Be ~

The pounding ache in his head was what greeted Draco the next morning. He opened his eyes slowly. Feeling something warm at his side, he turned his head. And became rooted in shock at the sight of the brunette snuggled into the crook of his arms.

"Oh shit." Shit shit shit.

This was not supposed to happen. The woman was going to get married today. He sneaked another look at her and couldn't help but smirk at the satiated, blissful expression on her face.

A stray strand of chocolate hair had fallen on her face, and as he brushed it away, he tried to remember how they got there.

Nothing. Well, except flashes of colour and a limb or two there. He did however have a feint memory of their… _creativity … _last night. The girl had flexed into positions that he didn't think she was capable of. Though she acted like it most of the time, Granger was no nun.

He felt her stir next him. Eyes fluttered open. She sat up, rubbing her eyes sleepily, then thought better of it and sank down once again, closing her eyes…

Draco waited for it. _One_… _Two_…Hermione's eyes flew wide open.

[][][]

Hermione woke up feeling blissful for the first time in months. She felt like hugging the entire world as she sat up and rubbed her eyes. The silver flecks in her companion's hair glinted in the sun, soothing to the eyes as she sank back down again… Silver!

She shot up straight, eyes flying open. "Shit!"

[][][]

Hermione had proceeded to cuss like a drunken sailor as everything clicked into place.

"I cannot believe that it is you right now who is cussing like that." Draco smirked at her almost lazily. "First last night. Now the profanity. Congratulations. You are now officially a woman."

Hermione glared at him, stricken. "No! No, we didn't! Please tell me we didn't!"

"Look at the state you are in love. Now, you tell me whether we did or didn't."

For the first time, Hermione glanced down at her stark naked frame. Flushing scarlet, she made a grab for the sheet, holding it like a lifeline to her chest. She turned to look at him, then immediately squeezed her eyes shut as she realized that he too was naked. "Put some goddamn clothes on!"

"It's not like you haven't seen it before." But, he did as she asked.

She moaned, pressing a hand to her face. "Please don't remind me. Oh god, what have I done? I am the most…" She mumbled some incoherent words. "What have I done?" she repeated again, almost to herself.

"Drink. Dance. Grind. A lot." He sounded smug.

"Ugh, shit, this is all my fault!" She stopped short, and lifted her eyes to him, suddenly panicked. "Oh god, Ron! He can't know about this!"

"He won't. I won't tell anybody. Nor will you. It'll be taken to the grave. I promise."

She looked at him again. He stood next to the window, wearing only his pants, his hair dishevelled. She silently got dressed in her mangled clothes – good lord what had they _done_ to make her clothes look as if they've been mauled by a beast? – then swivelled to face him again. He hadn't moved an inch.

She opened her mouth to say something, but then thought the better of it. Picking up her purse, she went to the door. "I'm… sorry Draco. I really am. Goodbye."

He didn't look at her, but he inclined his head. "You'll make a beautiful bride Granger. Whatever you wear. See you around."

[][][]

Hermione shut the door of her room, flung her bag onto the ground and sank onto her bed. Her morning had not had a good start. She felt like bursting into tears as she recalled his face when she left.

She pulled her quilt up to her chin, determined to get some sleep. She had hardly closed her eyes, when the door burst open and a young man with red hair and freckles stood in the entrance. "Hermione, there you are! I've been looking _everywhere_ for you! Get _up_ already, its morning! Your parents want to see about something – I think there's a problem with the cake. Hurry up and get dressed, we've got so much work to do!" And with that he vanished again.

Hermione sat up slowly. "Yeah, good morning Ron. Nice to see you too," she said to the empty doorway.

[][][]

"For god's sake, the cake is _fine_ mum! Don't worry. Everything is just perfect. _Lovely_."

"Are you sure honey?" Helen Granger gave her daughter a worried look. She turned to face her, pressing a steaming mug of tea into her hands. "_You_ don't look fine."

Hermione grasped the tea, leaching the warmth of the mug into her hands. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Hermione, I'm your mother. I know you. Something's wrong."

Hermione sighed, defeated. "Do you…" She paused, licked her lips and tried again. "Do you ever feel like everything is just _too_ _much_ mum? Like you are in the middle of someone else's life with no _clue_ how to get out?"

"Oh sweetheart…" Her mum sat opposite her and leaned forwards. "What's wrong?"

"It's just…" Hermione paused and bit her lips, willing the tears not to fall. "Just. I don't know what I'm getting into. I don't know if I'm making the correct decision. I just don't." She squeezed the warm mug to stop her hands from trembling, unable to go on.

Her mum paused awhile before answering. When she eventually did, Hermione got the feeling that Helen was choosing her words very carefully. "Everybody feels that way sometimes. I know I did, at several points in my life. Especially concerning you darling." Her mother touched her cheek softly before continuing. "Follow your heart Hermione. I know you'll do the right thing. And I will stand by you no matter what, okay?"

[][][]

"So, we are getting married in a few hours. Excited? I know I am." Ron put his feet up on the table, revelling in the few moments of peace before the mayhem started.

Hermione smiled wanly, leaning against the counter. "Well, it _is_ my wedding day, Ron. I have absolutely no idea what I'm feeling."

"Where _were_ you yesterday by the way? I came home last night expecting a last cuddle before the big evening, but you weren't there. You should have informed me."

"It was a spontaneous decision. I didn't know you had plans for us or else I would have stayed. Besides, I don't have to keep you informed on everything I do."

"Pfft, joke's not funny Hermione. Of course you do! How am I supposed to be responsible to you if you don't keep me informed on what's going on?"

"We're getting _married_ Ron, not _chained_ up."

"Whatever." He looked bored, but then perked up. "Hey, come on, you didn't ask me how yesterday was! Go on… Ask me. I know you want to."

Hermione sighed quietly. "How was yesterday?"

"It was great! We had the best time! There was a match between us Cannons and those idiots Sparktails, and we totally whupped their butt!"

Hermione tried to look thrilled but failed miserably. "That's great. You know, I think I'd better go and begin to get dressed before mum comes screaming."

Unfortunately for her, Ron was in a chatty mood. "Ah, just wait with me until then. It won't kill her. So, how was _your_ day? Where did you disappear to last night?"

Oh dear. "Um, we girls kind of joined together and had a sort of hen party. It was… fun." Understatement of the century.

"Where did you go?"

"Um, a bar."

Ron suddenly sat up straight. "A _bar? You?_"

Oh gulp. "Yes."

"Were there any men about?"

Hermione gripped the counter edge. "Yeah, a f-few."

He frowned, but then relaxed. "I feel so stupid for even thinking about it." He shook his head and grinned at her. "I was wondering whether any of them would have been interested in you. You know, like _that_. But, no, you are the adorable bookworm slash nun I fell for, Hermione. No one would even have _looked_ at you, I'm sure! Compared to the others, I'm sure you would have been invisible don't you think?" And he chortled.

Anger flared up in Hermione's stomach, but she forced herself to chuckle weakly.

Ron shifted slightly, and seemed to loom closer. "You see Hermione? I'm perfect for you. I worry for you so much when there is actually no need to worry. It's like fate wants us to be _together_ don't you think? All my friends' girlfriends think you're so lucky to have me and you don't disagree do you? I'm one of the Golden Trio after all, _and_ a Chudley Cannons superstar - a title which even Harry can't claim. You've got nothing to lose and everything to gain." And he chuckled, jubilant.

Hermione snapped. "Everything isn't about you, you and _you_, Ron! I too have feelings you know!"

He looked surprised. "I was just stating the obvious 'Mione, that's all."

She stormed up to him and poked him in the chest. "_No you weren't! _The obvious would be that you are a dominant, authoritative, arrogant little-"

"Watch your tongue, you chit! I'm _marrying_ you! You should be _grovelling_ at me on bended knees for even picking you, when I had the choice of millions! Millions!"

"_Take_" – she didn't know how but her wand tip was suddenly pressed hard against his throat – "_it_ _back Ron. _If you don't love me -"

"Of course I do! And shove off Hermione, I know you won't -"

"- you still have the time to take back your million dollar wedding ring and put an _end_ to this whole _rigmarole _-"

"_Are_ _you_ _mad?_ After all the money I spent -"

There was a rather loud cough from the doorway, followed by a ringing silence as they both fell silent.

"Is everything all right?" Helen Granger asked pointedly.

Hermione, breathing hard, pocketed her wand and drew back. "Yes. It's fine."

"Great. Hermione, I'm sorry but I need you to come get dressed now." Helen was staring very hard at her daughter.

"Of course." And this time, it was Hermione who went out the doorway without a backwards glance.

* * *

**Love and review! xx**


	3. Stranded

**Empire**

~ Chapter 03 – Stranded ~

It was just like yesterday, except this time it was her mum who said it. "You look beautiful darling."

"Thanks." Hermione smiled at her mum, even though she had absolutely no idea what she looked like. Throughout the whole process of Getting Dressed, Hermione had refused to look even once in the mirror. She didn't want to see what she looked like.

"If I ask you a question mum, would you answer it truthfully?" she asked Helen, who tucking strands of loose brown hair under the veil.

"Of course," Helen murmured.

"Do you honestly like this dress? Do I look… _right…_ in it?"

Helen pursed her lips. "Well, it _is_ a beautiful dress. And Ron _did_ work very hard on it." She paused, but continued as Hermione looked at her emphatically. "However, that said, it wouldn't have been _my_ first choice for you. On some girls, this dress would look amazing, but on you… it somehow _demeans_ you." She looked at her daughter apologetically.

But, Hermione wasn't sad. She was elated.

She _wasn't_ losing her mind after all! Her own mother thought the dress was wrong too.

[][][]

The hotel hall, where the wedding was to be held, was filled to the brim when Draco got there. It also happened to be stifling due to the fact that several hundred people were jam-packed into a closed room. A few fans, which had been placed at odd corners by the hotel staff, did little to contribute to ventilation.

Why Weasley had even _wanted_ a flashy wedding at a hotel was a mystery to Draco, unless of course that was exactly the reason: to create a flash and a bang. He suspected it to be so because the moron had always been a sucker for attention. All he knew was that the bride wasn't very happy about it, because Hermione had grumbled about it a few times to him.

Speaking of which, where _was_ she? Even the groom was gawking anxiously around. Whatever Draco personally felt about the union, he knew it had to happen. For her sake and her happiness, he would willingly give her up, even to an utter baboon like Weasley. Even though last night, he had never wanted to let her go.

Even though he loved her.

Suddenly, there was a rustle, a quickening of breath, and everyone turned simultaneously to the gaping golden doors. The bride had arrived.

[][][]

The harsh rays of the sun were awful in her eyes. She could see the room was crammed with the faces of people – hundreds, maybe thousands – and plunging into the midst of them all seemed like a nightmare. Everything was one big blur.

Colours. Shapes. Noises. The rustle of feet. A cough here, a sneeze there.

And the faces. Blurry face after blurry face, gawked at her, gaped at her. Millions and millions and – there! She recognized that face. She knew him. Who was this lone friend among the throng of foes?

Silver eyes. A shock of platinum blond hair. A jolt went through Hermione as her dazed eyes held on to his silver ones like a lifeline – _don't_ _let_ _go_.

Somehow, she ripped her gaze away – hearing a cry somewhere deep within her – and focused on the aisle. The rose petals scattered about, the heavy incense of perfume. The heat. The long red carpet. The red haired man who stood at the end of it.

The bouquet of glazed roses fell out of her hands.

She took a step back… she twisted around…

And she ran.

She was free.

[][][]

… _Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London …_

**The Runaway Bride: Granger dumps her own wedding**

**War Heroine Scared of Saying 'I Do'?**

**Ronald Weasley, deserted fiancé, declares: "It's Over"**

The newspaper headlines for weeks afterwards hadn't had anything else to scream about except the Not-Wedding. It seemed to Harry as if the journalists and the gossip columnists in the entire country did not have anything else to write on. Jobless people.

He glanced up as Ginny entered the room. "No news on Hermione?"

"Nothing new," she replied, gloomily.

[][][]

… _Four months later …_

Strolling down the street, on the lookout for Double Chocolate Banana Caramel Milkshakes with extra topping, would not have been priority on Hermione's 'To do' list. Ever. But, Astrid had insisted and Hermione hadn't had the heart to refuse.

The sky was a dapper blue, a breeze wafting in the air. A bunch of pink balloons, which somebody had left tied to a lamppost, were tugging in the wind, and a nearby accordionist struck up a merry tune. Hermione couldn't help but smile.

Astrid ground to a halt. "Look Hermione!" Grinning broadly, Astrid pointed to the little riverside bistro. "Double-chocolate-banana-caramel-sugar-free-skim-milk milkshake, come to mamma!"

"Seriously? You are willing to pay for something that sounds a lot like mud sludge?"

"It's amazing, trust me. Plus you need to get out of the house more often."

"Not _this_ again," groaned Hermione. "I had a perfectly valid reason for staying put in the apartment, thank you very much for your concern!"

"An apartment _alone_. Away from your _friends_. _And_ you're heavily-"

"Twenty sickles if you shut up _now_."

"Deal, girlfriend."

Hermione rolled her eyes, plonking herself down on an outdoor seat. "You are such a god-awful drama queen."

"_Love it or hate it, but let me flaunt it…_ Sure makes you miss the good old days, doesn't it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes again. Her stomach was not in the best of moods, so ignoring the French girl's clamouring to order "The chocolate-banana-blah-di-blah milkshake!" she ordered just a coffee.

It was the height of autumn. Leaves were scattered everywhere along with a surprisingly large sprinkling of couples. Even the kids were partnered off. A little girl was dragging a small boy off to play in the flowers, ignoring his loud protests. Hermione giggled as the girl pushed the surprised boy headlong into a clump of dahlias.

There was a rather loud snort from her companion just then. "Tatiana's in the _Enchantress_ again. What a dishrag," commented Astrid, plucking a magazine from a vacated bench. "Oh look. She's there with that Weatherby fellow. Your ex?"

"_What?!_" Hermione's head snapped up. "_Ron?_"

"_Oui_. Weasleby. _He_ seems to have got over you very well."

"Here, let me see that." Hermione snatched the magazine.

"_Tatiana Metcalf dazzled in Givenchy next to her fetching date, Ronald Weasley, Keeper of the 'Chudley Cannons'. Weasley, who only four months ago was supposed to have wed the alluring Miss. Hermione Granger, looks remarkably put together for a jilted man. He does indeed look very happy with his newfound love, and the two of them are now getting very serious about their relationship… perhaps another marriage is in store for this heartbroken War Hero?..."_

"Oh my god."

"I feel your pain Hermione. _Men_. Bastards, the lot of them." Astrid reached out and impulsively hugged her.

But Hermione was not looking at the lurid heart-shaped article anymore. She was looking at a small, equally lurid article next to it.

"_Esmeralda Trent, supermodel extraordinaire, was spotted getting cosy with rumoured boyfriend Draco Malfoy, Defence Auror and one of the wealthiest bachelors in England, in a spacious restaurant in Paris. The striking couple are said to be on vacation and it is rumoured that the handsome Mr. Malfoy maybe ditching comfortable years spent in bachelorhood and finally 'popping the question' from his love. What better way to do it than in the poignantly beautiful city surrounded by its aura of romance and…"_

"Hermione! Hermione, are you alright?"

Her attention was snapped back to the present by Astrid's anxious voice. The French girl's face was scrunched up with worry as she waved a perfectly manicured hand in front of Hermione's face.

"Are you alright? What's wrong?" Astrid repeated.

"No… no… I'm f-fine." She couldn't help the tremor. Her hand rubbed unconsciously over her stomach. Over the slight bulge which was starting to show whatever she wore.

Astrid smiled uncertainly and Hermione tried and failed miserably to return it. The blatant lie she'd told Astrid was nothing compared to what she was actually feeling. As if her heart was shattering into a million tiny shards.

She wanted to scream. She felt as if something hard was pressing on her lungs. The simple process of breathing in and out was becoming difficult. She wanted to back to her apartment, curl up on the bed and cry. Cry and cry and cry.

She was so tired… so, so tired. She wanted to go _home_.

"Actually Astrid," she murmured, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt poker stabs of pain jamming through her heart. Rubbing soothing circles over her belly, she continued, "Would… would it be alright if we did this later? I want to go home."

* * *

**I am SO sorry for not updating sooner! I kind of ran out of steam after the second chapter, and when I finally DID get an idea, it started to go horribly pear shaped. Which is why I thought I'd edit the second chapter and shift the contents a bit, and when I did, I got a perfectly splendiferous idea for how this should continue. **

**The inspiration for the Almost-Wedding was Shakira's new music video 'Empire'. It's absolutely amazing and I can imagine Hermione doing exactly what Shaki did. :)**

**Love and review! Please please please? xx**


	4. Lost and Found

**Long-time-overdue Disclaimer: Much to my chagrin, I do not own the awesome world of Harry Potter or the delicious little characters. They all belong to JK.**

* * *

Empire

~ Chapter 04 – Lost and Found ~

It was dark outside when the Minister of International Magical Defence Corporation finally shut up and allowed the conference to adjourn. Draco sneaked a look at the other Aurors he had come with – the expression of long-standing hunger and boredom on their faces would have made him chuckle had he not been feeling the same way.

"It was a pleasure," beamed the Minister, swooping down on them and grasping their hands.

"Likewise." Draco flashed a smile, gave an obligatory handshake and vanished from the Ministry as fast as he could into the cool night air.

A few minutes later, he strolled down the maze of streets, lit up with streetlights. Autumn had come in all its splendour to London; the trees were garlanded in crimson and gold leaves which fell to the ground in spinning circles. The air was chill, and the smell of coffee and fruit pies perforated the air. Draco's stomach rumbled. Merlin knows, he could really do with some good food after that gruelling meeting. With Granger gone, a lot of the workload had fallen on him and his time was divided between cases and meetings. It was amazing how Granger had managed all the work that she had.

Granger_._

_Hermione_.

He narrowed his eyes and jammed his hands in his pockets. He was not going to think about her. He was not. She was unimportant. And not worth it.

_Liar_, whispered a voice in the back of his mind.

_Shut up._ He was not about to take lessons from an imaginary voice in his head.

_She _is_ worth it, _the annoying voice insisted persistently. _Isn't that the reason you've thought about her every day? Almost every waking moment to be precise? Isn't that why you took over her work? To try to track her down –_

_Shut up! Why should I care for her? If she cared for me, she would have sent word to me a long time ago! _He kicked at a nearby pile of fallen leaves, irritated. The leaves scattered across the pavement, red and orange and gold.

She would have loved them. Gryffindor colours, she would smirk. Perfect aren't they?

Jesus, Malfoy. Get a grip. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and resolutely kept on walking.

[][][]

Hermione rested her forehead against the cool ceramic tile of the bathroom in Astrid's apartment. Maybe the pumpkin-cherry pie hadn't been the best idea. Curse Astrid and her weird taste buds… Curse herself for eating it even more. She was _tired_ and homesick and she just wanted out –

Oh god. She threw herself at the ceramic toilet and heaved.

[][][]

…_Later that night…_

He was chewing on baked cannelloni with spinach and ricotta, and reading a case file when the chair opposite him was drawn back with a scrape. Swallowing, he looked up to see The Bimbo perched on it, batting her heavily made up eyelashes. She gave him a million-dollar smile, and leaned forwards expectantly.

"What do you want Esmerelda? I'm trying to eat dinner over here." He tried not to make his tone too snappy, automatically leaning back.

"Aw, I was hoping to catch you for dinner and chat." She pouted like a five-year old. "Never mind. See, I have to. Ask you something."

Nice grammar. Apparently being a supermodel meant the ability to construct coherent sentences was lost. "If it's whether we can go on a date, my answer hasn't changed since yesterday. It's still no."

"But we could have so much… _fun_!"

He simply dropped his eyes back to the case. "If you're done, leave. I like to have a breathing space around me while I eat."

"But, you haven't answered my question! Ok, it's this. So, there's this ball for Witch Weekly's 35th anniversary edition. You're my date. Wanna go with me?"

"No."

"But, you're my date!"

"No."

"The tabloids are gonna go crazy if you don't come with me!"

"If your life revolves around those pathetic tabloids, you're sunk in deep shit. And _no_. Non. La negativa."

"But!" Esmerelda had managed to squeeze out a tear. "You went to those other events with me!"

"As a favour to Marcus!" Draco snapped. This woman had to have a thicker head than Weasel. "And I'm seriously starting to regret it!"

"Oh, but darling, my brother doesn't have anything to do with this! This is about us. Me. And you."

Draco closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, reminding himself that he _never_, _ever_ _slapped_ _women_. However, he made a mental note to throttle Marcus Flint and his barrage of Flint-Trent siblings at the next possible opportunity. Honestly, they were clingier than leeches. _This_ particular Flint-Trent – or 'just Trent' – was a choking hazard.

"There was never anything about 'us' to begin with Trent. If you had thought that me returning your brother a favour had anything to do with _you_; you're just delusional." He ushered a waiter, and gestured at the now gaping supermodel. "Throw her out before I sue this entire dump."

[][][]

…_Even later that night__… _

Having watched the hilarious scene of the woman screaming at the waiter, then finally flouncing off; he debated the pros and cons of just apparating straight back home or visiting Diagon Alley to meet with a client, when he decided to ditch it all and go for a walk. He didn't really care for the sentimentality bullshit of a 'beautiful night', but perhaps he was a tad bit too involved with work to do even more work, and the prospect of an empty house didn't appeal him.

The alternative was a walk.

[][][]

…_Near the Thames River…_

Hermione rested her elbows against the railings which separated the street from the river, feeling sick.

After she had cleared up the bathroom from the absolute mess it was in, she stepped quietly out of the apartment, still feeling nauseous. Being out in the crisp night air would hopefully make her feel better. At least maybe it would postpone another trip to the chamber pot.

It was a while since the day she had foraged Astrid's cabinets for a little packet. She had had a hunch that Astrid might have a spare one or two, because of the sheer amount of men she brought home each night. Her hunch paid off. There was the little blue packet which had the power to change her whole world.

_Of_ _course_, thought Hermione bitterly, _it had lit up like a Christmas tree_. Too bad it wasn't Christmas. Oh god, what was she going to do?

_I_ _could tell_ _him_. But, the idea was immediately banished. Fat chance. He was getting married to some passing _slut_. It would probably not be the best time to appear at his doorstep like some charity case.

In a city where thousands of people walked the streets even at this time of the night, Hermione Granger had never felt more alone.

[][][]

…_Near the Thames River…_

Draco thought he was hallucinating. He stood stock still in the middle of the sidewalk, gazing at the figure of a young brunette. She wore a loose blouse, jeans and had her head buried in her hands. It couldn't be. It _couldn't_. Could it?

"_Granger?_" he choked out.

Her head whipped up, then rapidly paled. Her eyes were the size of saucers, stricken.

Within two strides he was in front of her, grasping her arms. "My god, you are _here_! You… you…" And then his arms were around her, and Hermione's head was resting on his chest.

She was unnaturally still. He pushed her back and studied her critically. "What's wrong?"

And then her eyes flashed. She pushed him away and stepped back. "Congratulations, Mr. Malfoy. I wish you the best of luck for the future."

He stared. "What are you talking about?"

"Your marriage. I'm sure you'll have a wonderful life. Now, excuse me-"

He grasped her arms again. "My _marriage? _Are you _mad_?"

"Don't try to pretend!" She was shouting by now. "The Draco Malfoy I knew would have the decency to at least be honest! I know you're getting married and that-"

"For Merlin's sake Hermione-"

"I trusted you!" Her voice trembled, and treacherous tears formed in her eyes. "_I trusted you. _And you _betrayed_ me. You… you couldn't even… can't even let me-"

"Trust?" He had let her go now. His voice was splinters. "_Betrayal?_ Don't even speak of trust to _me_, Hermione Granger! You disappear for _months_ and yet you can't even let me know where you've gone! You speak of trust to _me_, Granger, yet _you_ disappear from your own wedding, without a word to anybody! What about the _trust_ your parents had of you? Your _family_? Your friends? The other guests?"

She was silent, tears etched across her face. His heart ached for her, but he had to get this off his chest. "We thought you had gone to another country Hermione. You wiped your traces behind you too well. You could have been _dead_" – his fists clenched – "for all we knew! Your parents were _distraught_! Did you even _think_ about what this would put them through?"

"What about you?" Her voice was still, quite – a mere whisper.

He was caught off guard. "I… _what?_"

"What about _you?_" She raised her chocolate eyes to meet his swirling grey ones.

He was motionless. Then, "I searched across the entire country Hermione. I would have torn through every brick and shanty, if they had let me. You put me through living hell."

Her eyes swam. He waited for the tears to fall, but they didn't. Instead, she bridged the gap between them, resting her head on his chest, her hand stroking his cheek. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so _sorry_, Draco. I…"

He wanted to scream at her, rage at her some more for what her had gone through. But, then, he crumbled and he held her as tightly as possible, leaning into her hand, burying his face in her unruly hair.

There was something slightly odd about her, but he couldn't put his finger onto it. Frankly, he didn't care. She was here. She was _home_.

[][][]

It was an infinity later when she spoke. She wanted to stay in his arms forever, but her mind was swirling with emotions and she had to find out. "Isn't this a bit inappropriate?" Her voice was muffled, but she was sure he could make out the words.

"What's inappropriate?"

She felt his lips in her hair and blushed, trying to break out of the hug. His arms just tightened. "This whole _thing_? If… you know… you really _are_ getting married?"

He sighed, and finally let her go. "I still have no idea why you keep on insisting that I'm getting married."

It was her turn to stare. "You _aren't_?"

"_No._ I would tell you if I was." His lips twitched.

"But… it was rumoured that you were. I read it somewhere!"

"_Where_ exactly? The Daily Prophet?"

"Er, no."

He chuckled. "I would really like to know how the _tabloids_ got to know I'm getting married without even _me_ realising that I am! Silly me. I really should pay more attention."

She glared. "This is not funny Draco! I read in _The_ _Enchantress_ that you were engaged to Esmerelda Trent! In Paris!"

He burst out laughing at that, incensing her further. "That piece of trash! If I got married to every single person _The_ _Enchantress_ paired me up with, I would have to marry more than fifty times! That many wedding ceremonies are a bit expensive, don't you think? Even _I_ don't have that kind of money!"

She blushed scarlet. Come to think of it, there was no solid proof about the marriage. "Sorry," she mumbled.

Still chuckling, he shook his head and put an arm around her. "Come on, let's get out of here."

[][][]

They had barely exited the street, when the smell of frying fish hit them squarely on the face. At once she went limp and turned green.

"What wrong?" Draco asked, instantly alert.

Hermione just shook her head, her mouth clamped shut. Then, she clapped a hand to her mouth, ducked out from under his arms and fled back up the street.

He found her leaning limply against a lamp-post, breathing in big gulps of air. He touched her face tentatively, then when she didn't push him off, engulfed her in a hug.

She was still as a statue. He pushed her back and studied her critically. "What's wrong?"

She seemed better, but her posture was strange: her arms forming a barricade around her midriff. Her eyes flickered, looking for an escape.

"Run away and I'll physically haul you back," he threatened.

"I… I…" She licked her dry lips, her eyes darting to his face. "I have something to tell you."

* * *

**I have a feeling this is a bit rushed, but I wanted to just get this done while I had the chance. And, it's the middle of the night over here, so please excuse any mistakes. And...**

**...Ok, I owe you guys a huge apology. I am so, so sorry for not updating sooner! I promise I'll get the next one done faster than the time it took for this one! *pouts like a five-year-old* (I don't know why, but I like that phrase! ;D)**

**Now, for my list of excuses - I really meant to update sooner, but things were just so crazy here. I had so much work to do – there were some big projects lined up and I have looming exams on the horizon. *shudder* Plus, I kind of got addicted to **_**reading**_** Fanfiction instead of **_**writing**_** it, so… yeah. *stares sheepishly at the ground***

**Oh, and if any of you guys are interested, there's a LINK of the doomed-wedding wedding dress in my profile. Check it out! I wonder if any of you will will like it? **

**And, guys, I would really love to know what you think of this story. I actually do take time to read what you say, and constructive criticism is always welcome. **

**Reviews are love… **


	5. Forever Love

**Disclaimer: Nope. I still don't own anything except for this plot.**

* * *

"_I… I…" She licked her dry lips, her eyes darting to his face. "I have to tell you something."_

* * *

Empire

~ Chapter 05 – Forever Love ~

"What is it?"

Then everything clicked. The _something_ which had been bothering him. The bipolar way she had acted. The small bump her stomach made, visible through the clothes. The way she was holding herself, arms cradling her midriff. The nausea.

"You…" He stared pointedly at her stomach.

Hermione gulped. "I haven't slept with Ron for a long time," she whispered.

Draco wanted to crumple. "It's mine!" he choked.

"Yes." The words were almost inaudible.

Then, to Hermione's surprise, he gathered her up in his arms and kissed. "Don't ever run away from me again Granger. I'm never going to let you – both of you – go. Ever."

* * *

…_03 Years Later…_

A little boy in blue overalls tried to catch the coloured baubles that floated around the Christmas tree, giggling with glee. He grasped only fistfuls of air at first, but then, bubbling with laughter, managed to catch a shiny, floaty little spark in his outstretched palm.

"Look mummy!" he cried, running over to his mother, who sat cross-legged by the fireplace.

Hermione picked him up, and placed him on her lap. "Let's see then," she said, opening his fingers. A delicate globe of light drifted up from his hand and floated right back into the air, only to be caught five seconds later in a two-year-old fist again.

"Pretty!" Scorpius gurgled, peeking at the light through a peephole in his fist.

"Here, sweetheart, see this?" Hermione held out a box of Fairy Lights. "More pretty. You take some and you throw it in the air. Like this." She shook out some marbles and threw it up in the air. The little granules seemed to take flight, expanding out and floating away, lighting up brightly as soon as they were in the air.

Scorpius, forgetting all about the single light in his hand, sprang up enthusiastically. Hermione laughed as she watched her son hop about, this time managing to catch about five at once.

"He'll make a dashing Seeker, won't he?" drawled a voice from the doorway.

She looked up to see Draco, leaning casually against the doorway, laughter written all over his face. She grinned, beckoning. He slouched away from the door, crossing the decorated room, only pausing to add another box to the huge pile already gathered at the base of the Christmas tree.

"Daddy, see what I got you!" Scorpius solemnly dropped a handful of Fairy Lights into Draco's palm.

Draco swung him up into his arms, and equally solemnly inspected the colourful lights. "Very nice, baby. I've got something for you too. Want to see it?"

Scorpius outstretched his hand. "Give!"

"Okay," laughed Draco, pulling out a snitch from his pocket. He put his son down on the ground, then crouched down next to him. "You've got to catch this when it starts flying. Like this." He made a swipe at the fluttering golden ball.

The little boy leapt after the ball and Draco let him, instead sitting down fluidly next to his wife.

"Making Quidditch plans already?" she asked.

"Maybe," he grinned, kissing her cheek. "Happy anniversary love."

"You remembered!"

"Do I ever forget?"

"Well… no. But, thank you." She kissed him.

"Mm. I've got you a gift, but I can't be bothered to go and get it now. You'll like it. It'll bring back memories of a certain... hangover." He smirked.

She smiled, flashing back to three years ago. The coup de grâce for the 'Scandalous Granger/Weasley' love affair, had come in the form of the War Heroine, tying the knot with Draco Malfoy, not even six months after her and Ron's 'fall out'.

With Draco, it hadn't been a 'wedding' wedding. Hermione had made sure of that. It was more of an informal family gathering, topped with a registration and cake.

The matching rings – silver on silver – glinted brightly on each of their fingers, and Hermione couldn't help but smile as Draco absent-mindedly stroked her cheek.

"I have a feeling Scorpius will be an extraordinary Seeker," Draco mused, as he watched his small son.

She rolled her eyes. "Draco, he's _two_."

"Well, it's never too late to start."

Hermione smacked her forehead. Oh Merlin.

He placed a hand on her bulging belly. "And this one… Mmm, I think, this one will be a great Chaser."

"No, don't you dare! Baby Girl is _mine_. Perhaps, she'll even be in Ravenclaw."

"Merlin forbid! Malfoy's are only ever in _Slytherin_."

"Well, then I hope she'll be in Gryffindor."

"I'll take Ravenclaw."

[][][]

The starlit sky gleamed softly, canopying a private terrace in the Malfoy Manor. A bottle of champagne and two half full glasses lay forgotten as their occupants lay entwined on the white loveseat.

She whispered his name, as he trailed soft kisses down her neck. _I love you. I love you. So, so much._

He rested his head against her chest, listening to her pounding heart. She wanted to mould him inside her. "I love you Draco. More than life itself."

He cupped her cheek. "I love you Hermione Granger-Malfoy. Don't ever let go."

…_Like the empires of the world unite  
We are alive  
And the stars make love to the universe  
You're my wildfire every single night  
We are alive…_

* * *

**And *insert drumroll* the end. We're done! Yaaaayyyyyy! :)**

**Thank you so much to all my wonderful reviewers and fans. I love you guys! And please tell me what you think of this chapter, and the story overall! **

**Love and review... **


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